Follow in my Footsteps
by Mystical Jade
Summary: [one-shot] With the birth of his first child fast-approaching, Vegeta begins to doubt himself as memories of his past begin to surface. Read and Review, please!


****

I do not own the rights to any of the characters in this fanfic, nor do I claim to. The idea, however, is mine.

AN - I got the idea for this fanfic after seeing a picture that my good friend kyllir drew… So, thanks for the inspiration! ^_^ The idea, I'm sure, has been done before, but the picture was just so cute that I had to write a fanfic… So, if this fanfic is similar to others, that truly wasn't my intention. But please, enjoy your read anyway, and leave a review.

****

Follow in my Footsteps

_"Come, Prince Vegeta," the royal viceroy spoke upon entering the young prince's bedchamber. A four-year-old Vegeta stood nervously from his chair, and looked up towards the stern, older Saiya-jin man. Vegeta stood rigidly with his arms at his side, and his tail wiggled behind him skittishly. He wore his royal armor, and his cape was draped over the chair._

"Father will see me now, Daikon," Vegeta asked in a timid voice. Sighing, Daikon walked over to the small child, taking the cape from the chair and draping it around the boy's shoulders.

"Calm yourself, boy," Daikon stated, as he clasped the cape's chain in place. "This is your first meeting with your father, and you must present yourself well. He will expect to see a strong Saiya-jin warrior. He won't tolerate anything else."

Straightening himself, Vegeta smiled slightly. "I understand."

"And do not smile," Daikon instructed. "A respectable warrior does not do such things. It shows a weakness to your enemy." Placing a muscular hand on the boy's shoulder, he led Vegeta out of the room. "Do not speak, unless you are spoken too," he continued. "If his Majesty wishes to speak with you, he will do so."

"Why doesn't Father want to talk with me," Vegeta asked, his eyes flashing with confusion. He watched as Daikon stopped and knelt down eye-level with him.

"Ask no more questions, Prince Vegeta," he stated. "His Majesty has many pressing matters at hand, so this must go smoothly." Standing, Daikon began to walk down the hall once again. "Now come along quickly."

At the end of the hall, the double doors that led to the throne room stood ominously, and Vegeta suddenly became nervous. He swallowed noisily as Daikon threw open the doors, and followed through silently. He followed quickly behind the viceroy, stopping only when he did.

King Vegeta sat on his throne, looking up as Daikon and the Prince entered the room. His eyes flashed with a fleeting interest as he saw, for the first time, his son, and his expressionless, piercing eyes gazed towards Daikon as the man spoke.

"I present to you your son, Vegeta IX, Prince of the Saiya-jins." Daikon looked down towards Vegeta, who hid slightly behind his leg, and pushed him forward.

"This is the boy," King Vegeta demanded. "He is but a child."

"He is very advanced for his age, Highness," Daikon answered. "He is only the age of four, and yet, he has mastered skills a warrior needs to begin his training. And, if I may say so-"

"That's enough," the King interrupted gruffly. "Come here, boy." Slowly, Vegeta began to advance towards the throne, gasping inwardly as his father stood up. He watched as the King walked over to him and circled around him, seemingly studying him. He stopped in front of him once again, glancing over to Daikon. "You say the boy is ready for training?"

"Yes, sire."

Vegeta watched as his father knelt down next to him, and butterflies danced in his stomach. The King stared at him for a long time with a dark, distant look in his eyes, and Vegeta's mouth grew dry. Licking his lips nervously, he watched as a smirk turned up the corner of his father's mouth, and he returned the gesture.

"Daikon says you're ready to train," the King stated. "Is that true, boy?" As Vegeta was about to answer, his eyes suddenly grew big, and he felt nauseated as his body shook.

"F-father," he stuttered.

"What is this, Daikon," the King demanded with sudden anger in his voice, as he ignored his son. He held Vegeta out by his tail towards Daikon as he stood up, a displeased expression on his face. "The boy can not even stand having his tail grabbed!"

"Your Majesty, he must train to have immunity to that."

"Then train him," King Vegeta stated, dropping his son with no regard. "Nappa will be his training partner."

"But sire," Daikon protested. "Nappa is far advanced in his training! We can not yet subject the young Prince to such a rigorous routine!"

"If royal blood runs through his veins, he will do it," the King spoke coldly. "I do not want anything more to do with him, until he has had this training." That said, he walked out of the throne room, turning a deaf ear to the cries of his son…

Vegeta shot up in bed with a start, as he woke suddenly. His breathing, he realized, was erratic, and his body was drenched in sweat. Running a hand across his sweaty brow, his body relaxed slightly as he realized where he was. Bulma slept next to him peacefully with a hand gently resting on her protruding stomach. Releasing a slow, calming sigh, he squeezed his eyes shut momentarily.

_"Where is this coming from,"_ he wondered silently, an angry haze settling in place. The reoccurring dreams had begun months ago, and it was slowly eating away at his patience. Opening his eyes, his sight slowly came into focus, and he lifted himself out of bed.

"Vegeta," Bulma moaned, as she turned in her sleep. He looked down at her, gently pulling the covers over her shoulders, before leaving the room. Stopping briefly in the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, he walked to the closet by the gravity room. Reaching in, he grabbed his training gear. He pulled a tank top over his bare chest, and then put on his sneakers after putting on a pair of shorts. Then, draping a towel across his shoulders, he walked into the room to begin his daily training regimen.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

_"You must move faster, Vegeta," Daikon exclaimed as he sparred with the boy, throwing out his leg. Vegeta quickly brought his arm up, blocking the blow with his forearm. Sweat dripped into his eyes, and he quickly brought up an arm to wipe it away. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he watched Daikon cautiously._

"Make your move," Vegeta said, his breathing labored. The young prince had grown several inches over the three years since the beginning of his training. He wore a blue spandex suit, tattered from his intense spar sessions. His boots were worn from the years of training, and his gloves had several holes in them. As he stared Daikon down, he slowly steadied his breathing, causing the viceroy to smirk.

"Very good, Highness," Daikon spoke, nodding in approval. He snapped his fingers, and Nappa stood from where he was seated. "Let's see how you do against Nappa today."

The much taller Saiya-jin boy stood in front of Vegeta, dropping back into a fighting stance. "Come on, your Highness," Nappa slightly mocked. "Show me how good you've become."

Scowling, Vegeta took a quick hop and flew towards Nappa. Their fists met, as both threw a punch, and Vegeta didn't have time to shake out his throbbing hand, as Nappa landed a quick jab into his ribcage. Gasping for air, Vegeta stumbled forward and he felt a sharp pain in his back, where Nappa kicked him. His body froze, as he felt Nappa grab his tail, delivering more quick, sharp punches to his back.

"Get control, Vegeta," Daikon instructed, yelling out loudly. He allowed anger to enter his voice, and Vegeta's brow furrowed. Clasping his hands together into a fist, he swung his arms up in a wide arch, clipping Nappa in his chin. As soon as Nappa's grip loosened, Vegeta spun around and brought a knee up into Nappa's stomach.

"Ah," Nappa wheezed, clutching at his stomach as he dropped down to one knee. He turned his head to the side, spitting out some saliva, and when he looked back towards Vegeta, the color drained from his face. "V-vegeta," he stuttered, staring down the ki ball that was in his face. "What're ya doin'?" He swallowed noisily as the ki ball intensified, and as he nervously looked up into Vegeta's face, the young prince's eyes were void of emotion.

The ki ball slowly dissipated as Vegeta's attention was drawn towards the door, where his father was suddenly standing. The king stood leaning against the frame, clapping his hands in an exaggerated fashion. Pushing himself from the door, King Vegeta walked into the room. Reaching up, he unclasped his cape, and tossed it to the side.

"Father."

"That was impressive, boy," King Vegeta stated. He looked at Nappa, waving a hand in his direction, and the Saiya-jin slowly stood, still clutching at his stomach. "Daikon," he continued as he stroked his goatee.

"Yes sire?"

"How's his progress?"

"Excellent, my king," Daikon replied. "He's done far better than students his age would normally do. He'll be advancing with Nappa to the next level, pretty soon."

"I see," the King stated, standing with his arms relaxed at his sides. He looked over towards Vegeta, studying him. "How about I test your skills?"

"I would be honored, Father," Vegeta stated, as his stomach turned. Glancing over towards Daikon, who nodded his head in approval, he fell into his fighting stance. His father, however, only stood staring at him. Frowning in confusion, Vegeta dropped his stance slightly, and that's when the King attacked.

Vegeta blinked as his father moved much faster than he could follow, and by the time he realized the king was behind him, it was too late. Vegeta felt a kick to the side of his head, and he went flying. He didn't go very far, however, as his father caught him by the foot. Swinging him around, King Vegeta dug a knee into his son's stomach, effectively knocking the air out of him. As Vegeta gasped for air, his father grabbed his face, extending his arm out and holding him in front of him.

"This is all the skill you possess," the King demanded as he squeezed Vegeta's face. "This, from the child who killed my mate at childbirth?" Tossing him to the ground, he sneered down at him. "You do not stand up to the pedestal you were put on upon your birth."

"F-father."

"Daikon," King Vegeta barked, snatching his cape from the ground and putting it back into place. "Continue with the boy's training."

"Yes sire," Daikon said, placing a balled fist against his chest and saluting him as he left the room. As Vegeta sat up from the ground, Daikon turned to him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Come Prince Vegeta. And you too, Nappa."

Both young Saiya-jin's did as they were told and stood in front of their teacher obediently. Vegeta glanced in the direction his father had gone, frowning angrily. He would not forget this day…

Vegeta stood completely still with his arm extended out in front of him. Sweat dripped slowly from every pore on his body, however he paid it no mind. All that he could think of, was the dreams of his past… and his father.

"Father," he growled. Powering up, he quickly began to throw kicks and punches at an invisible opponent.

"Vegeta," Bulma shouted suddenly over the intercom that was located in the room. He stopped momentarily, throwing a glance in the direction of the intercom system, before he returned to his training. "Vegeta, answer me! I know you're in there."

He stopped suddenly, as a single thought entered his mind. He knew why he was having dreams about his past. Though he hated to admit it, he was uncertain what fatherhood would bring. Would the unborn child be a son? And would his child kill his mate, like he had done to his own mother? He squeezed his eyes shut as a single, intrusive thought remained in his mind. _Would he hate his child, if that happened…?_

"No," he yelled out, balling his fists at his sides. "I will be a much better father, than my Father was to me!" Giving a yell, he punched the wall of the chamber, denting it.

"Vegeta! What's going on in there? Answer me!"

"What do you want, woman," he yelled, as he slammed his fist into the call button.

"You've been in there all day," she retorted, yelling equally as loud. "Are you going to come out, or are you going to make that your permanent home?" A loud pause settled between the two, and she looked up as the familiar hiss of the chamber depressurizing sounded. Vegeta stood in the door, his familiar scowl in place.

"You had better have some food set on the table, woman," he commented, looking at her pointedly.

"Why else would I disturb you," she demanded, turning on her heel as she waved a hand at him. "I know how precious your-" She allowed her voice to trail, as she suddenly grabbed her stomach.

"What is it," Vegeta demanded, concern filling his voice as he stepped up behind her.

"Oh, Vegeta," she exclaimed, giggling slightly. "You have to feel this!" She pulled his arms around her, holding his hands in place over her stomach. "The baby is kicking!"

"Is that all that's wrong," he asked, his awe-filled voice betraying him. Bulma allowed her arms to drop down to her side, however Vegeta's hands remained gently on her belly.

"Isn't it amazing," she whispered. Vegeta scowled slightly as he realized what he was doing, and quickly dropped his arms. "Don't fight it, Vegeta. You know you're just as excited for our baby to be born, as I am."

"It's a boy," Vegeta said, stepping away from Bulma. "And he will be a strong warrior."

"Take one step at a time, Vegeta," she laughed, walking around in front of him. "_He_ has to be born first." She stood on her toes, kissing him softly. As she opened her eyes, she stepped away, wrinkling her nose slightly. "And you need a shower. Take one first, before you come to dinner."

Vegeta smiled slightly as she walked away - once she was out of sight - however the gesture slowly slipped from his face. Clenching his jaw as his mind wandered, he made his way to the bathroom.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Later that night, Vegeta watched as Bulma slept soundly next to him. He had dreamed back to the time that his father had finally accepted him, when he finally called him son. The flashback had deeply disturbed him, and he couldn't get back to sleep. His father's efforts, he remembered, were too little, and came too late…

__

"Look at this, my son," King Vegeta exclaimed. He wrapped an arm around the shoulders of a ten-year-old Vegeta, walking with him towards the window that faced the city. "One day, you will rule this mighty planet." He turned him around so that they faced each other, and placed both hands on his shoulders. "You will be a great ruler, just like your father."

"Of course, Father," Vegeta said, smirking. "I will follow in your footsteps." Just then, Daikon burst into the room, in a state of emergency.

"Sire, my Prince, I have urgent news," he panted, as he saluted both father and son.

"Daikon, what is the meaning of this," King Vegeta demanded. "This had better be important."

"Oh, but it is," a screechy, high-pitched voice spoke from the throne room doors. King Vegeta's eyes narrowed, as three figures entered the room. The one who had spoken floated forward in a hover chair, and continued, "My, dear Daikon, were you announcing my arrival?"

"O-of course, Lord Freeza," Daikon replied. Bowing out of respect, he stepped aside as Freeza and his entourage came forward.

"Father, who are these men," Vegeta demanded, staring over them with an air of arrogance.

"Daikon, take the Prince to his chambers," King Vegeta instructed, ignoring his son's question as he stepped away from the window.

"Nonsense," Freeza stated, sending a look in Daikon's direction, which caused him to stop. "Is this the young prince that I have heard so much about?"

"What brings you here, Freeza?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome, certainly," Freeza began, a sharp edge to his voice. "Have you given any thought to my offer?"

"My people will not do your dirty work, Freeza," King Vegeta stated vehemently. "The Saiya-jin race is a proud one, and-"

"Yes, yes," Freeza cut him off. "If I've heard it once, I've heard it all before."

"Then my Father has nothing more to discuss with you," Prince Vegeta exclaimed. Freeza stared at him incredulously, before a slow smirk spread across his face.

"Tell me, King Vegeta," Freeza began, a colder edge creeping into his voice. "Which is more important to you? Your kingdom, or your heir? Make your decision quickly, because you can lose them both in a matter of moments."

"I-"

"I'll make your decision easier for you," Freeza interrupted. "Your men will work for me clearing planets, and I will take your son and train him as I see fit." King Vegeta remained quiet, brooding silently. "There is, of course, one other option," Freeza continued. "One, I think, you wouldn't like very much."

King Vegeta released a heavy sigh, and then turned towards the window that he and his son had previously been standing by. Gripping his hands tightly behind his back, he didn't say a thing. Freeza watched his body language, and as he saw the king's shoulders slump forward ever so slightly, he smiled triumphantly. Turning back around, hatred flashed in his eyes as he looked at Freeza. "I don't have much of a choice."

"Zarbon, Dodoria," Freeza began, chuckling as he spoke. "Take the brat to my ship, and wait for me there."

"Yes, Lord Freeza," Zarbon replied, as he and Dodoria each grabbed one of Vegeta's arms. As they began to drag him from the room, he struggled against their grasp.

"Father, what's going on," Vegeta screamed. "Father!" King Vegeta turned his gaze towards his son as he protested, and as their eyes met, Vegeta saw his father for the last time…

"Vegeta," Bulma gasped suddenly, rousing him from his reminiscence. He glanced over at her, and she was sitting up in the bed, holding her stomach. A strange look entered her eyes, before she smiled. "It's time!" She gasped in pain once again, before laughing slightly.

"What," he asked. He stood uncertainly, and she frowned.

"Go and get my parents," she yelled. "Don't just stand there!"

Ignoring her demands, Vegeta gently picked her up from the bed, and quickly left the room. The night began to go by in a blur, as time seemed to slowly tick by. After leaving Bulma in the Capsule Corp infirmary - much to her dismay - he went to get her parents, who, in turn, called the doctor. He paced right outside of the room where Bulma was delivering, unable to keep his unyielding memories from surfacing.

_"That boy is no son of mine!"_

A seven-year-old Vegeta froze as he passed by the conference room, as his father's angered voice floated from behind the door, which was opened slightly. He silently walked over, peeking in and seeing his father, as well as Daikon. 

"Your Majesty, certainly you understand that the Prince is trying his hardest."

"It's not hard enough," the King yelled, slamming his fists into the table. "He will become the legendary super Saiya-jin, even if it kills him! My mate's death will not have been in vain."

"Is that what this is all about?" Daikon stared at the other Saiya-jin man, and shook his head. "That kind of thinking will doom us all."

"You don't know anything."

"But I know you, brother," Daikon retorted, causing the king to look at him. "Vegeta, you should be proud your son was born into this world, as such a strong Saiya-jin warrior. He was born a powerful infant, and he will grow into a powerful king."

Vegeta said nothing, opting instead to stare at his younger brother. Shaking his head, he turned away from him. "Continue with his training, Daikon," he spoke sternly. "Only that will ensure he will be as strong as your faith in him."

"Yes, sire," Daikon spoke sourly. As he turned towards the door, Prince Vegeta gasped. Quickly stepping away from the door, he found the nearest room, slipping inside just as Daikon left the conference room. He listened as the sound of his uncle's footsteps faded, finally disappearing. His chest heaved as he slid down the wall, and silent tears fell down his face…

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta quickly stood from his place on the floor, as Dr. Briefs' voice interrupted his thoughts. A cigarette hung from the corner of the older man's mouth, and he smiled slightly. "What is it," Vegeta demanded, his voice cracking a bit.

"Congratulations, son," Dr. Briefs exclaimed. "You have a baby boy. Bulma is-"

Vegeta brushed past his father-in-law, nearly knocking him down. Slamming into the room, Vegeta's heart beat wildly in his chest. He had to see her. _What if Bulma's fate turned out to be the same as his mother's?_ He couldn't stand the thought. Stumbling into the room, he stopped abruptly. Bulma was lying in the bed, her eyes closed. Vegeta clenched his fists shut tightly, bowing his head slightly. The cry of his newborn son, however, drew his attention. Walking over to the bassinet where he lay, he picked the baby up, holding him in his arms.

"My son," he stated softly. The baby's cries slowly subsided, and as he opened his eyes, he saw his father for the first time. "I promise you," Vegeta continued quietly, "I will be the best father to you, I can be." Placing the baby against his shoulder, he turned around and froze.

"Vegeta," Bulma whispered, as she sat up with tears in her eyes. "That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say. You'll be a great father."

"I-" He swallowed hard, smirking slightly as he continued. "I thought the boy had killed you at childbirth," Vegeta recovered, walking over to the bed. "I suppose he's not as strong as I thought he would be. I can change that, though."

Bulma's face turned red with anger, as he turned away from her once again. She was about to blow up at him, however she sighed instead, as she lay down once again. "Fine, you can train Trunks," she replied sleepily. "But not until he's older."

"My son will not be named Trunks," Vegeta objected, causing the baby to fuss slightly. He turned to look at Bulma, however she was asleep once again. Rolling his eyes slightly, he slowly sat down in a nearby rocking chair. "I suppose," he began, watching her sleeping form, "that the name can stay."

As Vegeta held his son close to his chest, he rocked Trunks slowly until he fell asleep.

****

Like I had mentioned, this idea has been done before - many times. I just hope the read was somewhat different for you. Thanks again for the idea and your help, kyllir! ^_^


End file.
